


You Overstayed Your Welcome

by TheRoseDuelist



Series: The Apprentice Reversed [9]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), dark content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoseDuelist/pseuds/TheRoseDuelist
Summary: The balance of nature has been upset.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Asra (The Arcana)/Reader, Julian Devorak/Reader, Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader
Series: The Apprentice Reversed [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567798
Comments: 5
Kudos: 154





	You Overstayed Your Welcome

Vesuvia was saved. The Devil is dead. Harmony is restored. Everything is as it should be.

Except you.

You feel out of sync. The world feels foreign, strange. You have started feeling like you are outside your own body, that you aren’t entirely in control of your own faculties anymore.

Well, you are. You know that. But it just doesn’t...feel like that.

It is almost like you are a puppet. You control the strings to move your limbs but you don’t feel the blood coursing through them. You don’t feel the thump of your heart beating.

You don’t and you do. It’s confusing.

They noticed you were out of sorts the past few days. Asra watches you with concerned eyes; Julian dotes on you to make you comfortable; Lucio brings you gifts to distract you. You smile and nod, explain you are just exhausted. That your magic is still returning from that final battle with the Devil.

That isn’t the truth though. You don’t know how they would take the truth if you told them. It would scare them.

Because it certainly scares you.

A week has come and gone. The palace is a hub of celebration. The citizens don’t know why but when there is free food and booze who will turn that down?

It is the last night of the festival. You perform a few magic tricks with Asra, play drinking games with Julian, and dance with Lucio. It’s joyful, jubilant. Everything you could ask for an evening well spent in wonderful company.

Not to mention stealing kisses, diving out into the hallways away from the crowds, hiding in the curtains to tangle your limbs together, slipping into the shadows and running your hands over one another. Your lips are bruised from each encounter, but you love it. 

And it distracts you from the ever-present anxiety. From the next moment when you feel disengaged from your body and the revelry surrounding you 

The night grows late, and tiredness comes over you. You know better than to delay it. When you can sleep, you do, for it keeps the chance to detach at bay. You sleep as long as you can these days.

Nadia noticed that first. Then Portia. You told them the same thing: exhaustion.

Soon they wouldn’t buy that excuse. But that is a worry for another time.

You bid your friends goodnight despite their entreaties — despite the mischief in Asra’s eyes, the flirtatious smile on Julian’s lips, the licentious wink from Lucio — and whisk yourself to your room.

You change into your silk pajamas and slide into bed. Close your eyes and eventually drift off.

But it seems sleep will not keep you in her embrace.

The dream rips through you, jolting you awake. You sit up, shaking, gulping down air. A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead.

A dream? No, more like a nightmare.

Darkness. Then pulsating red. Whispers of bodies, visages of wraiths. Elongated faces, bulging vacuous eye sockets, gnarled bodies. The screams of the undead calling out to you from their realm beyond the veil. 

When their hands had touched your skin you’d felt the cold. You’d felt the sadness wash over your soul, their grief, a gnawing longing. And...there was a whisper of pleasure. A promise of peace.

Your heart skips a beat. That is what scared you awake.

Adrenaline pumping in your veins you slip from your bed, and the balls of your feet make contact with the smooth tiles, further igniting your senses.

Sleep is no longer something you wish for. Not now when such a dream engulfed you instead of the blankness that had comforted you all week. 

Rushing through the empty corridors, you make your way across the palace quietly. You don’t want to awaken anyone. There is an emotion you can’t describe rolling within you, surging against your chest, trying to break free. And if you were stopped by a friendly face, by Portia with those kind eyes or Nadia with that understanding voice, if they asked you your purpose, you are afraid of breaking down, of what you will say.

Your body races down the hall, but you don’t feel the burn in your legs like you know you should. Don’t feel the slight strain in your lungs. 

You clench your hands into fists, but you don’t feel the fingernails touch your palms. Panic rises within you.

It is happening again. Displacement from your body.

Although the truth is...it isn’t really your body, is it?

You can’t breathe. You’re frantic. Feeling everything and nothing. You zoom towards the entrance to the palace gardens, eager to escape the silent stone walls surrounding you.

Once the humid air hits your skin, sensations blossom throughout you. The summer heat sticks to you and sweat begin to collect on the back of your neck, pulling you back into feeling. 

For the first time, it feels...

You know the word. It’s coating your tongue, sticking to it like glue. But you don’t want to say it.

Grass tickles your ankles as you tread towards the fountain. Even though the palace sleeps, the fountain’s showers still sprinkle in delight, a showcase for any wanderer.

Your steps slow as you near, your heart picking up its pace. Fear dries out your throat though desperation spurs you onward.

Finally, you reach the edge of the pool and sit. It had been only months before that you had looked into this blue surface and connected with Asra across realms for the very first time.

Now you will do it again. Except you need to visit, not simply communicate.

Licking your lips, you feel your magic smolder in your core. Did you really want to do this? Did you really want to find out the answer?

No, you do not. But you don’t have a choice. Not with the way you are feeling. Not with your disassociation.

You need a conversation. You need an answer. You need a way to fix it before it is too late. And there is only one who knows the truth.

No one will find your body slumped in the grass this late at night. You will be safe to travel and not be disturbed. That’s not what worries you. It’s the journey that does. You’re going to the realm of Arcana on your own.

You’ve never gone on your own before. But you don’t have much of a choice now.

You close your eyes and will your magic to rise up into you. Reaching out with your spirit, you feel for the boundary between your realm and that of the Arcana. Your spirit detaches, willingly this time, and dives into the pool. And you fall into the void.

You drop into darkness. Coughing, you blink, willing your eyes to adjust to the blackness surrounding you. It is oppressive, weighted. As if it is trying to squeeze the life from you.

But as your vision adjusts, making out the rocky, curved walls of the cave, the suffocation evaporates. Instead, a warmth blankets you, clinging to you, flooding your pores, soothing your muscles, filtering through your blood. Comforting you.

It is unnerving how calm you are in the black.

Rising, you move through the cave, hand on the wall, feeling the gravely texture drag across your palm. You are here. The rough texture tells you that you made it.

Minutes pass as you trek through the darkness. How much longer you wonder until you see the entrance? Will you ever?

You hadn’t known what to prepare for when you whisked yourself to its realm. Before it had spoken to you in your shop. Or an illusion of it. But this time, you are heading to its home territory.

The cave curves to the right and at the edge, you can see the first rays of light. Good. 

Your walk turns into a jog then a full out run. You aren’t running from the darkness. No, that had felt safe. But you want answers. There is no time to lose.

The light becomes bigger, brighter, and soon you are at the entrance. Wincing, you cross out into the world, the sun searing heat on your skin.

This is hot. Blistering. Scorching. Nothing like you’ve ever encountered.

The darkness calls to you to come back. And your spirit whispers to do so. Urges. It is tempting, to lose yourself in that black, the eternal night. But you pull yourself away. No. You have a mission and you are going to see it through.

A small hut on the far hills catches your eye and you jog towards it, though the sun blazes on your shoulders and back. Your body roasts and sweat rolls down your face, so much that you have to brush it from your eyes. Your insides scream for relief. But there is none to be had. 

A scream of anguish erupts from your throat. You hadn’t even felt it was there you are so caught up in the sun bearing down on you. Is this what it is to die by fire? 

The hut is only over the next hill. You have to get there. This is a test. You know it in your bones. If you turn back you will be thrown back to your world, back into the body that is not truly yours.

You push forward. You have to keep going.

Your breathing is labored, filling your ears. Your lungs shriek. You fall to your knees, the hot ground searing your skin. Tears dot your eyes. No, no, you can’t stop. Not when you are so close.

You struggle to move on all fours, crawling, though the dirt and pebbles pierce through your hands and knees. You have to prevail. There is no other option.

And there you are, at the front of the hut.

Shade from the roof. The cool ground soothes your burning body. Relief flushes through you and you collapse.

“You made it.” The melodious voice reaches your ears.

You turn your head to see the blue eyes of Pepi the cat.

“I am impressed. Not many have done so. Fewer than a handful. Usually, I come to them, not the other way around.”

Heaving, you push yourself up on your elbows. “I need to talk to you.”

“Well then, come inside.”

The cat spins around and trots back into the hut.

Minutes later you are sitting on a worn couch, watching at the cat, who lounges on the glass table in front of you, a glass of water in your hand.

You gulp it down and more water appears. You gulp it down and then more appears. Finally, you set the glass down next to the cat, life returning to you.

“Now. What is it you seek?”

“I don’t…my body…I can’t…” You fumble to find the words. With a groan you rake your hands through your hair. What can you say?

The cat watches you, waiting.

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“I could say I don’t know what you’re talking about, but the only way to talk about it honestly is for you to speak your mind aloud.”

Your lips tremble as your mind puts the words together, cautiously and carefully.

“My body is…not my own. How do I make it my own?”

“You can’t.”

Your stomach drops.

“Truly?” You whisper, your throat starting to close.

“It never belonged to you, Y/N. In fact, it belonged to the Devil.” The cat cocks its head to the side. “Surely you know the implications of that. A stolen body can only survive for so long.”

“Can it be fixed? Can it be saved?”

“No. But its deterioration will be slow. You’ll still be able to live the life you have now.”

“But I’m not fully connected.”

“You never will be.”

A chill runs up and down your spine.

“This isn’t...” What you want to hear. At all. You wanted some sort of ray of hope.

But a small part of you murmurs that you already knew this answer.

“Why did you come to me?”

Clearing your throat, you look straight into the eyes of the cat. “You are Death. You know what it’s like to live, die, and exist in between.”

“And you are in the in-between now. Not like Lucio, but still.” The cat hops to the ground and disappears into the back of the hut. “There is no cure for what you are feeling. You can live your half-life, or leave it. The choice is yours.”

You feel your eyes grow hot, tears starting to collect in your sockets, pressure building. Trying to get out.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hulking mass creep along the walls.

“What would you do if you were in my position?”

“I would do what my bones said. I would do what time wanted me to. Because there is a natural order to the world.”

“I’m afraid.” You whisper.

“Why? Were you afraid in the cave?”

“For a moment.”

“That is all it is. A single moment.”

“And then peace?”

“You seem to already know.” The hulking mass morphs into a two-legged creature, skeleton-like, but still only a shadow. Death will never show its true form to you. The mind of a human cannot comprehend it.

“You have what you need. Now go.”

A whirlwind surrounds you, bundling you up and rocketing you through the top of the hut into the blue sky. As you soar, the sky turns purple then black and you feel the air suck out of your lungs. You try to scream but nothing comes.

And then you are back in the garden.

You dry heave and collapse onto the grass, feeling the scratches brush your cheek. You are back. You are alive.

No, that is wrong. You are in your realm, somewhat attached to your body. But you aren’t fully alive.

You never were. It was all an artful illusion.

You reel from your conversation with Death. It is hopeless. You could live out your life, condemned to never truly live. Soon food would turn to ash in your mouth. You will lose your sight. Possibly hearing too. Then your mind will go.

Or you can give in.

You can allow yourself to die once more and pass beyond the realm to where you were before. Where you were dragged from that sweet peace.

Where you are meant to be.

Your vision becomes blurry as you roll onto your back and look at the dark sky and the castle’s spires that tower over you. Are you ready to leave your friends? The ones you love? This second chance at life has given you so much. Your heart is bursting with gratitude.

But your spirit wants to return to the afterlife. 

The war rages within you. It is unfair. It is so very unfair.

But you cheated death in the first place. That was unfair. Your body was procured by the Devil. That was unnatural.

You are unnatural.

You are unnatural.

And that is it. The sob roars up your throat, your voice is hoarse as the strangled cries burst from your mouth. Why did it have to be this way? You want to stay. You want to live. You want to love.

And yet you want to be alone. You don’t want to feel disconnected, lost, detached. You want the peace.

A wave of exhaustion crashes through you and the rivers of tears stop. There is no other choice. You know what you have to do.

You are down at the docks before you know it. The first rays of sunlight shimmer over the horizon. 

“Excuse me.” You call out to a fisherman preparing to set sail. “Would you give me a ride?”

“Where to?”

“The Lazaret.”

He grimaces. “Why would you want to go there?”

“I…have some business. I can make it worth your while.” You take out a hefty coin pouch. You won’t be needing it where you’re going.

His eyes go wide and he swipes it from your grasp. As he begins counting, you step into the boat and sit. It’s more than he makes in a month. Perhaps more than he makes all year. At least you’re helping someone before you depart from the world.

“That’ll do it. Let’s go.”

He kicks the gondola off the pier and rows into the ocean. You can see the dark isle up ahead. You heart pounds, the drumbeat loud in your ears. Is this what you truly want?

You doubt yourself, thoughts moving faster than you can absorb. You wonder if you are making the right choice. Is this a mistake?

You try to look over your shoulder at your home. But you stop yourself and squeeze your eyes shut.

No.

Because no matter how hard the decision, you know it is the right one. You know the pain of living will continue to grow, the disintegration will cause you to lose your emotions, you will feel nothing soon. The love you so crave will disappear. And that will hurt them.

This will save you and them in the long run. You have to hang onto that truth.

A jolt forces you to open your eyes. You are at the dock. Already. Has it been that quick of a journey?

“Here ya go. When should I come back?”

You offer him a smile. It is sweet of him. You can feel his fear of the island and yet he is willing to put it aside to help you.

“You don’t need to.”

He blinks, “What?”

“I said you don’t need to. But thank you.”

“How will you get back?”

You shake your head. “Thank you for the ride.” And gracefully you step off the boat, onto the dock, and begin to walk into the haunted landscape.

You feel yourself detach, your legs moving but no feeling rushing through them to your senses. You look at the deadness; the reds and purples and blacks coloring the ground and trees and abandoned structures. The charred remains of the corpses of the plague-ridden. The scorched earth from the rotting and diseased trees.

Emotion wells up in your chest and you choke down a sob. You can feel the pain of your death, the hopelessness, the fear. Your body shakes with each step as you move closer and closer to the spot where you took your last breath on this earth.

It feels like the hot sun on your back in the realm of Death. Something claws at your lungs and you wheeze in pain. Something beats like a whip lashing across you back, and you fall to your knees. You scream as the excruciating pain rips through you.

It is so close, you can’t stop now.

Fallen branches scrape across your arms drawing blood. Tears fall unbidden down your cheeks and you pant, forcing air down your dry neck and into your shattered lungs.

A shimmer only a few feet away. A figure waiting. 

You drag yourself over pine needles, feeling them spear into your thighs, you yelp but do not stop your journey. 

It is so close. You will not let yourself get stuck in this in-between. You will not give in to the pain. You will reach your destination because it will be the last thing you will do.

“You’re here.”

You claw forward into a ruined house. Relief pours into you, the torrid pain evaporating. Craning your neck, you gaze upward. Your eyes meet deep black ones. The shimmering figure. A shade.

Your ghost.

All you can see is a horned mask, but you know that this is your past self. The lifetime you can’t remember.

“You came.”

“I did.”

Silence folds in the air between the two of you. You can feel the shade waiting. Waiting for you to make the decision. To return so they can leave this earth as well.

A tendril of magic tickles the back of your mind, tentative, urgent, searching.

Asra.

You close your eyes and quietly cry. You don’t want him to find you. You don’t want him to know. At least, not until you’d made your decision.

His spirit appears, hovering in the air next to your shade.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” He asks. You can hear the fright in his voice.

“I…” Your voice is lost to you as you look in his frightened eyes. Your chest tightens.

“No. Stop. You can’t.”

Your heart breaks, and you wrench your eyes away from his. Almost everything in you wants to go back to Vesuvius, to brave the journey that had almost destroyed you to get here. The trial that would have left you permanently here between worlds, never to know the peace of death and never to die slowly with your friends.

“Y/N?”

You look back to see Julian now with Asra, terror registering on his beautiful, angular face.

No no no.

“What are you doing!? Come back here this instant!” A voice shouts. 

You whip around to see Lucio, tears flooding down his face. “You can’t leave me alone!”

“Y/N, come back, please. It…what…” You turn to see Portia distraught, her big blue eyes trying to hold back tears.

“This is not the way.” You look to see Nadia, who shook her head, showing the shred of vulnerability that most did not see.

“You can’t leave.” 

And you see Muriel glaring at you, but glaring because he is hurt, not angry. Pleading in his own way.

“Y/N. Whatever is wrong, we can make it better.” Julian begs.

And then their voices fill your head. A cacophony of pleas. Of demands. Of appeals and entreaties. You clap your hands over your ears.

No no no no no no no nonononononon—

“Y/N.”

Everyone stops and follows your gaze to your shade.

The ugly mask peers down at you and your shade stretches out their hand. 

It is time to make the final decision.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Nobody breathes. Waiting to see what you will do.

And then you bring your arm up and stretch it towards your shade.

“Y/N, no!” 

You can feel Asra trying to tear a hole in the air with his magic to get to you.

“Don’t you dare leave!” “Stop!” “Come home!”

You place your hand in theirs…

Memories of the time long past flood your mind, combine with the second life. You remember your parents. Growing up. Traveling the world. Meeting Asra and apprenticing. Working with Julian to find a cure for the plague. Taking care of Lucio. Then catching the plague yourself. The torture of it all, killing you slowly. How it poisoned you to the core.

Then your final breath. Falling into the dark and feeling peace. Everlasting peace...

Until you are torn in half, wrenched apart and hurled back to the world.

The pain obliterates you, explodes through you.

It is gone.

You open your eyes. The darkness. The silence. The warmth.

The memories of their screams reverberate in your ears. And you feel regret. But it fades away as quickly as it comes. Peace claims you.

And you curl into the fetal position, close your eyes, and sleep.


End file.
